Happy Birthday to my Mom
Before I was a parent, I had heard from other parents about how there's no love like a love between a mother and her child; how you would do anything for your baby; and how you didn't think you could love something so much until you had a child of your own. I would polietly nod when people told me such things, and agree that yes, that makes sense. And the person giving me such sage widsom would just smile in a way that implied they had a secret that I couldn't possibly understand. But I went on my merry way, assuming I knew what they meant.
And then I had Chewbacca.
Now, I can say: I GET it. Not only do I get it now, I know that I totaaaallly didn't get it before. After having Chewbacca, there's a part of my brain that knows I sound like a crazy person when I say this, but I would do anything for that kid. Like offer him an organ/move mountains/fight armies/miss episodes of the Mindy Project kind of love. I would pump milk in an abandonded court room and get yelled at by a bailiff for him (done), I would give up regular amounts of sleep and sanity, but smile while doing it (constantly done), I would make the goofiest noises in public just to get a smile from him (a regular occurance). And that's just scratching the surface of what I'm sure I'll do for him in his life time.
All this is a long wind up to say that finally, truly understanding how much you can love your child is what has made me understand how much my own mother loves me, and has loved me over the years. Today is her birthday, and I feel blessed to be able to tell her just how much I love her, and that I finally "get" how much she's loved me over the years. She has been the most amazing example of motherhood and unconditional love and I continue to learn from her every day and feel so lucky to call her my mom. I have a feeling that as Chewie grows up, I'm going to understand more and more just how much you love me, and hopefully you know I love you that much back. Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.